


As Sure As The Sun Will Rise

by NaClyyy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Vigilante AU, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2018-12-30 06:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12102852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaClyyy/pseuds/NaClyyy
Summary: When Keith was 12, he was captured by GALRA, an underground organization created to terrorize and destroy. He forgot everything, knowing only the life of a spy.Seven years later, he encounters Sharpshooter, a vigilante working for ALTEA, whose eyes remind him of something he's lost.Vigilante/Spy AUs are my weakness





	1. Prologue

**Prologue - 7 years prior**

 

Lance hid behind the bush, eyes trained on Keith and Hunk, who were searching for him in a very tricky game of hide and seek. When the pair got closer to his hiding spot, Lance decided that half an hour in hiding was enough.

He jumped out of the bush, tackling Keith to the ground.

Keith gave a shriek. “Lance!” He cried, laughing along with his friend.

“Got’cha.” Lance giggled.

Hunk was smiling at the pair. “Come on, guys. I think Shiro said that the pizza guy came.”

“Pizza!” Yelled Lance, jumping up and running back towards Keith’s house, rustling the tall blades of grass as he went. Hunk followed suit.

“Keith, are you coming?” Asked Hunk.

“Just a minute!” He replied. Something in the grass had caught his eye. Walking over, he saw that there was a patch of wildflowers within some briers, and his mind immediately supplied the image of a certain someone’s face. Keith smiled, knowing that he would love them, even if Keith did have to reach into the pointy vines to get to them. It didn’t matter. The person he had in mind was worth it.

Lance was in the kitchen with Hunk, Matt, and Shiro, singing a made up song about chickens while reaching for some plates on the top shelf of the cabinet. When he saw Keith he grinned, and Keith gave a shy smile in return.

Lance set the plates down and skipped over to Keith, asking, “What are you hiding behind your back?”

Keith giggled. “Close your eyes.”

Lance did as told, and felt a tickle by his ear, followed by Keith’s soft voice saying, “Okay you can open them now.” Keith held out a small bouquet of wildflowers, some of which had found their way tucked behind Lance’s ear.

“Tadaa!” He laughed.

Lance grinned and asked sheepishly, “For me?”

Keith nodded. “Of course.”

The way Lance beamed was well worth the thorns, Keith decided.

 

* * *

 

 

The day was nice, and Keith had found himself laying next to his best friend in the juniberry fields, gazing at the sky. The large, fluffy clouds drifted high above them, molded by the wind into shapes left up to the imagination. Beside him, Keith heard Lance sigh.

“Do you…” Lance started. “Do you ever wonder…” He trailed off.

“Wonder what?” Keith asked, softy.

“I don’t know. What will happen when we grow up?” Lance mused, eyes cast up to the geese flying overhead. 

Keith gave a shrug, knowing he had no answer to the question. He turned to gaze at Lance. The junniberries bowed their head to the soft breeze, framing Lance's face. The sky was reflected in Lance's eyes, and it fit him, Keith thought for the third time that day. There was a crown of juniberries woven into his soft bronze locks, fluttering along with the wind as well. Lance was beautiful, yet he seemed to be the only one who couldn't see that.

“We’ll still be friends, right?” Lance asked, worried. His eyes met Keith's

“Of course,” Keith said. That much he knew for sure. “I’ll never leave you.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Keith your thirteenth birthday is coming up!” Lance exclaimed excitedly one october night. They were walking back towards Keith’s house, swinging their interlocked fingers between them as they went. This time of day was always the best for stargazing.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot!” Keith exclaimed.

“How could you almost forget your own birthday?” Lance asked.

Keith shrugged. “Well I have you to remember it for me.” He grinned cheekily.

Lance faked a pout, but then it was suddenly replaced by a genuine frown. “Do you smell that?” The stench of smoke and gasoline filled the air. In the distance, the two could see a column of smoke rising from the area where Keith’s house was.

“Oh no…” Keith took off for it, Lance following closely. When they were within sight of the flames, Lance stopped.

“Keith-”

“Lance my parents! Shiro was there too!” Keith cried.

“Keith, there’s a vehicle there and some really suspicious looking officials-”

“I’ll fight them!” Having lost all rationale, he ran towards the flaming building, only to be stopped by an arm around his waist.

“Keith no! Please, just listen to me.” Lance begged, tugging Keith behind a bush. “They might be after you.” As soon as the words left Lance’s mouth, the strangers turned towards them. They wore purple suits with a strange insignia on the shoulder. Their faces were covered by gas masks, and through the smoke and chaos Lance could see them approaching slowly. Without thinking, he shifted in front of Keith. “Keith, run.”

“Lance I can't leave you-”

“We’ll meet up later.” Lance said, turning to Keith and giving him a soft smile. “Promise.” He pressed an object into the palm of Keith’s hand, letting his hand linger for a second.

“Are you sure you will?”

Lance turned to him with a strange sadness in his eyes. “As sure as the sun will rise.”


	2. New Missions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith wakes from a recurring dream, and Zarkon has an assignment for him. Meanwhile, Lance mourns the loss of a close friend who disappeared seven years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the prologue was really short, sorry! the chapters are all longer than that though, so don't worry.

There were very few things Keith Kogane remembered from his childhood. Any time before the bright lights and sterile smell of the GALRA base was hazy at best, and Keith didn’t like to dwell on it too much. There was, however, one thing he knew for certain wasn’t just a dream.

A pair of blue eyes gazed at him. Hiccuping laughter rung in his ears. A child - a  _ friend _ offered his slender, sunkissed hand out, beckoning Keith to follow.

Keith awoke, opening his eyes to the his dark room at the base. The dream had become more frequent with the passing years, yet he knew that it wasn’t quite just a dream. As usual, his hands flew up to the small blue pendant resting on his collarbones. He could never remember where he got the teardrop-shaped stone from, yet he knew whoever had given it to him had been very close to him. Keith felt an unexplainable yearning as he sighed, breathing out a name.

“Lance.”

 

* * *

 

 

A regular day at the GALRA HQ could hardly be described as eventful. Keith suited up in his training gear to grab a quick breakfast of the suspicious looking nutritional goo before heading over to the training rooms. He made his way down the glowing purple halls before stopping at the doors of the training deck. The scanner flashed his name and the doors slid open for him to enter. Keith looked over the large selection of weapons, before choosing a few knives and his usual sword. He didn’t get any farther than that, however, before the doors slid open again to reveal the signature long white hair of a certain leader’s annoying son.

“Kogane! I knew I would find you here!” The false cheer was enough to make Keith scowl.

“What do you want, Lotor?” He snapped.

“Calm down! Father wanted to speak with you about an upcoming mission.” Lotor explained.

Keith could practically feel the cold gaze of Lotor watching his every move closely. “Don’t see why he had to send  _ you _ of all people. Don’t you have other things to do? Aren’t you always whining about how you have to learn to watch over GALRA one day?” Keith scoffed. Nevertheless, he still put the weapons back on the shelves and made to follow Lotor.

“I just thought I’d get to check in on my favorite little soldier! Hurry up, we don’t want to keep father waiting now, hmm?” Lotor’s voice was laced with a threat.

Keith knew what Lotor was capable of - he had plenty of scars on his back dedicated to Lotor’s cruel nature. Yet after all this time, he couldn’t bring himself to care any more about the threats Lotor threw his way. Besides, it wasn’t as if Lotor was the leader of GALRA quite yet.

Keith followed Lotor to Zarkon’s office, keeping his distance. There were hardly any officials wandering the halls at this time as it was still too early for most of the non-field-agent workers to be up.

Lotor stopped at the end of the hall, facing a large pair of doors with the GALRA insignia on them. The scanner flashed green, and the doors slid open, revealing Zarkon’s grand office.

“Morning Father.” Lotor said breezily, gliding into the room and plopping down on a plush sofa, making himself at home. Keith stood at attention at the doorway, waiting for instructions from Zarkon.

“Son, that is no way to conduct yourself.” Zarkon glared. The lines in his face were made very apparent with the frown. “Sit down, Kogane.”

Keith did as he was told.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of ALTEA, the independent organization who is looking to put an end to all of our work. They haven’t been a threat to us in the past, but recently they’ve been becoming quite… troublesome. We managed to capture one of their analysts, who is currently being held in one of the cells, but we weren’t able to get anything out of him.” Zarkon paused, flipping through a few things on his laptop. He seemed to find what he’d been looking for, and turned it around to show Keith.

The screen showed the images of six sketches, depicting six different faces. Two of them, Keith noted, looked incredibly similar.

“I had our analysts do some facial reconstructions of their most skilled field agents. This one,” He pointed to one of the two similar faces. “Is currently in our hold, but as I said, Haggar hasn’t been able to get anything, even using while some very, ah,  _ convincing _ interrogation methods of hers. We need you to find them, and take them down. They’ve shown up everywhere we’ve been, disrupting everything and getting in the way. This is your new mission, and you’ll start first thing tomorrow. I’ll have Lotor brief you on everything else later today. You are dismissed now.” With a wave of his hand, Zakon turned around in his chair to resume the work he had been doing previously.

Keith stood up and bowed, heading towards the door, before hearing Lotor’s chilling voice cut through the air.

“Don’t disappoint us now, Kogane.”

 

* * *

 

 

The thought of having to deal with Lotor on his own for an hour of briefing sent a shot of annoyance through Keith, and he drove a knife through one of the training bots with a bit more force than necessary. It sputtered pathetically before dropping to the ground in a mess of sparks. Keith checked the time and groaned inwardly, noting that he had five minutes until he was to meet up with Lotor. Sighing, he tossed the weapons back into their designated spots and headed out.

Lotor was already in the meeting room when Keith arrived, watching a tape of explosions from earlier in the week destroy the federal reserve. His face remained passive, yet his eyes glinted with amusement. Keith recoiled internally at Lotor’s expression.

“You’re late, Kogane.” His voice rang out in the silence of the room. They both knew that Keith had been two minutes early, but Keith knew better than to protest. Lotor would only punish him more for arguing. “Looks like more garbage duty for you later, hmm? Fitting if you ask me.”

“Yes, Lotor.” Keith sighed.

“Alright, well. First things first, do  _ not _ touch anything. You’re filthy and this furniture was all very expensive.” Keith knew that Lotor wasn’t concerned about the furniture, but that he only wish to make Keith stand for the hour-long session. “Your job is to do what you can to kill them all, except for him.” Lotor flicked his laser pointer lazily in the direction of the sketch of a man. The caption under it read ‘Champion’. “He’s their leader, so bring him back in one piece. The rest can go. Oh, except be careful with this one,” Lotor gestured to one who appeared to be the captured analyst’s younger sibling. The caption under the sketch read ‘Hacker’. “The Hacker has a lot of the data and important files of ALTEA with her, so make sure you can get those as well.”

Keith nodded, taking a look at the sketches. Champion had a metal prosthetic in place of his right arm, and a shock of white hair resting against his forehead. The Hacker sported a pair of large round glasses, and a mess of light brown hair. She looked very young.

“Champion looks familiar.” Keith frowned.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you? He was once part of GALRA. Anyways,” Lotor continued, as if it was nothing. “You’ll have to look out for that metal arm of his. Also Hacker has been known for her incredible stealth. The Mechanic over there has a very high defense; he’s essentially a tank. And the Princess is an expert strategist. They’re very dangerous.”

Hearing Lotor acknowledge their power was a sign that they were not the typical people Keith fought. “What about him?” Keith asked, looking over to the last sketch. The person’s face was covered by a mask obscuring his nose and mouth, and a strange yet high-tech looking pair of tinted goggles. Something about the figure made him reach for the amulet around his neck.

“That is the Sharpshooter. I would be extremely cautious of him. He’s very elusive, and he can kill you from a mile away and you wouldn’t even know what hit you. We don’t have any pictures of his face, but we know that he is a very skilled assassin. On top of being an essentially perfect shot, he is gifted with being a master of disguise and sleight of hand. If anyone could kill you, it’s him.” Lotor’s voice dropped dangerously. “But you’ll kill him first, won’t you?” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course, sir.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lance knew that seven years should have been enough to get over a loss, but even now, the image of a certain head of raven locks still hit him with guilt full on.

_ I should have done more. _ He thought, sitting on the roof of ALTEA Headquarters, looking at the stars. They reminded him of Keith, of how Keith had always sat with him and watched the stars above, of how his eyes held the galaxies within them. Sometimes he wondered where the two of them would be had they just lived out normal lives. Lance remembered the days spent in the juniberry fields, confessing silly secrets and promising to stay with each other forever. He remembered how Keith would weave juniberry crowns for him, declaring that when they were older, they would be together, and how he would braid Keith’s hair, shyly asking if they would be like his sister and her boyfriend when they grew up. Keith had laughed and said that of course they would. 

A single tear found its way down Lance’s face. Keith was dead now because of him.

Lance felt the usual twisting of his gut as he choked out a sob. His hands reached for his teardrop pendant, only to be met by air. The reminder that he had given it to Keith only served to bring on a second wail of anguish.

_ “Isa, what’s this?” He had asked his sister, observing the small pendant with curiosity. _

_ “It’s my necklace, and I’m giving it to you.” Isabel had responded. _

_ “Why?” _

_ “Abuela gave it to me, and I’m giving it to you. When you find someone you care about very much, you can give it to them. It spreads the love.” She explained, smiling lovingly at her younger brother. _

_ Lance stared at the necklace in awe, watching as it caught the light of the sun streaming in through the windows. “You’re giving this to me?” _

_ “Of course I am.” _

_ Lance’s face split into a grin. “Thank you Isa!” _

_ Isabel laughed. “No problem, hermanito.” _

More tears streaked down his face at the memory. Isa was gone now too. They were both gone and it was Lance’s fault for not doing something sooner. For not doing more.

He remembered the night the GALRA burned Keith’s house down, taking Shiro with them. Lance remembered telling Keith to run. He also remembered being found be the GALRA officers and the scar they left across his right cheekbone. He remembered falling unconscious, waking up, and never seeing Keith again.

The stars above were blurred by his tears, and his rubbed his eyes, forcing his breathing to calm down. A small cat padded over to him, curling up next to him.

“Hey Blue.” He smiled shakily. Blue purred in response.

Lance liked being able to be alone and allow his feelings out away from the others. He sought out Shiro at times, but he knew that Shiro was coping in his own ways, especially now with Matt getting captured recently as well. Lance was the Sharpshooter, the elusive assassin who had grace under fire, who was calm in the face of enemies, who could infiltrate a base and leave without anyone ever knowing. But here, he was Lance. Lance, the one who cried for Keith, seven years after his death. Lance, who was hopelessly yearning for someone long gone because of his own mistakes.

Blue nudged his leg reassuringly, as if she knew what he was thinking. Lance gave the little cat a small smile, watching as the sun rose and chased the stars away. It was a new day, and he had a mission awaiting him.


	3. The Cat with the Dagger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> operation save-matt-holt part one
> 
> Keith comes face-to-face (mask to mask) with a certain Sharpshooter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooohhhhhh boy
> 
> i don't have a beta, so like, if you see a mistake, scream at me and i'll change it

Lance jogged through the halls of the ALTEA facility, dodging people and droids alike as he went. His watch read 05:28, which meant he had two minutes to make it to the meeting area.

“McClain!” Shiro called from one of the Lions. “You’re late again.”

Lance huffed, twisting his wrist towards Shiro, where his watch read 05:30 in its bright blue light. “Right on time, actually, boss.” He said, smirking.

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Get in the Lion already, Lance. Everyone’s waiting.” His statement was accompanied by a good natured grin.

“Rightaway Mr. Boss, sir.”

“Lance.”

“Kidding, kidding!” Lance laughed. “We all know you’re more of a dad more than anything.”

Shiro gave an exasperated sigh, which quickly turned into a groan when Hunk’s voice could be heard over the comms, saying, “He’s not wrong, Shiro.”

The easy banter picked up from there. Lance looked out the tinted bulletproof windows at the desert flying by. He saw Shiro frowning from the driver’s seat.

_ Matt. _ Lance realized. Out of everyone at ALTEA, Pidge and Shiro had taken Matt’s capture the worst. “We’ll get Matt back, guys.” Lance said.

Shiro smiled at him, and from the backseat, Pidge said, “You bet we will. I’m ready to kick GALRA’s collective ass.”

“We all are.” Lance smirked. He could hear Pidge’s furious typing behind him. Looking back, he could hardly see the small figure from amidst the pile of technology she had set up in the back of the vehicle.

The Lions were special vehicles designed for their missions. Their engines were muffled and they had adequate space and power sources in the back for all Pidge’s equipment, as well as a cloaking device in tight situations that called for it.

From the comms, Allura could be heard from the other Lion with Hunk. “Guys, we’re nearing the area where he sent his last transmission.”

“Got it, We’re right behind you, Princess.” Shiro’s use of Allura’s undercover name signaled that they were entering unfriendly territory.

Suddenly, Pidge piped up from the back. “Princess, Tank, head northeast. I’ve pinned down the location. They have sensors about half a mile out, though, so we’ll have to get off in about another… two miles.”

“Got it, Javascript. We’re headed for the base now.” Hunk said.

“Yo, Tailor, get ready. They’ll have guards on patrol.” Pidge said. “Only about twenty, though. Nothing you haven’t done before.” She smirked. “Also, don’t call me Javascript, you shit.”

“Sure thing baby bird.” 

“I told you not to call me that either.” Pidge growled. “Princess, Tank, stop. We’ve gotta cover the rest by foot. I have a map of the facility and the placement of their explosives and sensors. Lance, I’ll load the files into your goggles. Everyone else - use your visors, they’ll give you visuals of everything.”

With that, everyone except Pidge disembarked the Lions. Lance’s goggles unfolded the layout of sensors for him. He whistled lowly. 

“Oh man this is definitely something.” He said. With practiced grace he effectively wove through the field of sensors and explosives, carving a path for Allura, Hunk, and Shiro. His feet guided him through so easily, he almost wanted to laugh at how easy it all was, until Shiro’s voice startled him through the comms.

“Tailor! Watch out!” 

At the last second, Lance twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding an explosive embedded within the ground. He let out a sigh, reminding himself that this was not joke. That his life was on the line with each and every mission he did.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Thanks Bossman.”

Lance froze suddenly, and then, in one fluid motion, drew a small gun and shot. A camouflaged figure fell to the ground.

“We’ve been discovered. Time to split!” Shiro called. 

Lance fell to one knee, swiftly removing his rifle from where it rested on his back, taking aim. Guard after guard fell, as he carved a path for his teammates. As soon as everyone was down, he ran forwards, not bothering with the sensors anymore. He made sure to get away before the explosives could respond. As soon as he reached the building, he scanned Pidge’s map through his visor before scaling the wall to the roof so he could have a better view of everything. On the roof he saw reinforcements running out of the building to confront them.

_ Too late, we’re already in. _ He thought, firing some more shots into the ground, setting off more explosives, and clouding the GALRA agents’ visions with clouds of dust and smoke.

Once Lance saw that everything was taken care of outside, he turned for the door located on the roof, typing in the code that Pidge told him, and slipping into the facility.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Keith bounded up the stairwell, heading for the roof. He had seen that someone had let off the rest of the explosives, and that could have only been done from the roof, as it provided a good vantage point to survey the landscape and fire shots at a distance. He had been about to head out for his own mission, but it seemed like his mission had found him first. 

Keith knew what the implications of gunfire meant. The Sharpshooter was here, along with the rest of ALTEA’s elite to retrieve their analyst.

_ Sharpshooter, _ he thought,  _ who are you, exactly? Why do you wear that mask when the rest of your teammates don’t? What made you such a skilled assassin? _

Keith pulled up his mask, but suddenly stopped when he decided it would be better to wait for Sharpshooter and surprise him instead of barging in like he usually did.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance skipped down the stairs silently. He knew there was a good chance someone was on this very stairwell right now, looking for him. If they were smart, they would have been waiting for him to plan an ambush. Lance knew, however, that waiting in a stairwell to attack was a mistake on their part. He had the advantage in a tight space, as well as having a higher vantage point so he could shoot with ease and precision.

Lance stopped suddenly, when he heard a rustle of fabric. Without a moment’s hesitation, he aimed the gun behind and fired without looking. A grunt of pain sounded behind him, and he turned to face his opponent.

“Impressive reflexes.” He commented, watching as the agent clutched at his bleeding shoulder. “You would be dead right now otherwise.”

The figure scoffed. “Don’t give yourself so much credit. Your aim is just bad.”

Lance smirked, though he knew the agent wouldn’t be able to see. The agent himself was wearing a white cat mask decorated with red accents. Lance hadn’t seen any agents like him before; none of the GALRA bothered to cover their faces. The GALRA were proud of what they did. They practically flaunted their identities.

So who was this figure behind the mask?

“Why do you wear a mask?” Lance asked.

The figure was silent. Then, “Why would you want to know, anyways?” He huffed.

Well  _ fine _ then. Lance would just have to see for himself.

He never anticipated just how  _ fast _ the Cat could be. As Lance drew a different pistol, the Cat drew his blade and attacked. Lance skipped back, narrowly avoiding the cut. Unfortunately, the blade caught on his visor, scratching his goggles and compromising his vision. Lance needed to see, more than anything, so he gave up the disguise and pushed the goggles onto his forehead. As he did so, the Cat delivered another cut to his abdomen.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith managed a shallow scratch on the attacker’s stomach, before looking up at his face.

Only to falter and drop his dagger.

Keith looked into the sharpshooter’s eyes, and all he could think of was blue. It wasn’t quite like the ocean, it wasn’t quite like the sky, no, it was a blue which only existed in the eyes of the man before him. And it reminded Keith of something he had lost.

“Your eyes…”

The sharpshooter looked taken aback for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the statement. Keith took this as an opportunity to turn and run. He felt a sting in his shoulder, but heard no footsteps behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance stood in a stunned silence, not bothering to chase after the Cat. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t delivered the killing blow, why he had opted for the dart gun instead. The stranger had seen his face, or at least part of it, and had been injured. An easy target.

And yet.

And yet, he had also been the first one to land a hit on Lance, the first one to see his face at all. The mask he wore made Lance all the more curious about him. And when the Cat faltered, Lance did as well. His voice had sounded so vulnerable in that moment.

_ “Your eyes..” _ What about his eyes? Did the Cat recognize him? Dread wrenched his gut. The sedative from the dart gun would set in soon, and Lance could only hope that the Cat would forget.

“Tailor!” Pidge shouted. “Get moving.”

Lance jumped. “Right, yeah. Sorry. I’m on my way!” A glint of metal on the floor caught his eye, and without a clear thought as to why, he pocketed the knife left behind by the mysterious Cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhh next update will be in the next week or so ??? it'll be relatively soon though  
> see you next time!


	4. Questionable Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #savemattholt pt. 2  
> lance knows he isn't supposed to help the enemy - that's common knowledge - but his heart and curiosity get in the way of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is earlier and longer than anticipated because i was hit with a stroke of productivity  
> yell at me for any mistakes you catch

Keith collapsed against the wall, chest heaving slightly. He hadn’t been able to face the Sharpshooter.

He was the GALRA’s top agent, the one who came out of every mission successful. But then the Sharpshooter had shown up, with his strange, alluring eyes, and somehow, had messed it all up. He couldn’t do this. Something about the Sharpshooter had rendered him useless and unwilling to move. Keith didn’t know why he ran, but he knew that he couldn’t have faced the Sharpshooter. Yet it wasn’t fear. Strangely, he had felt no real, hostile feelings towards the ALTEA agent.

Keith decided that he would find out just who this Sharpshooter was, and what ALTEA wanted. He realized, with a shock (which honestly really wasn’t all that much of a shock), that he didn’t care as much for Zarkon and GALRA as much as he’d thought.

Keith turned and tripped down a hallway that looked like every other hallway in the facility. Walking was proving to be a pain. Even lifting his feet at this point seemed like a Herculean task, and each step seemed to be a feat beyond the likes of any Keith had accomplished before. Sweat seemed to have started to pour down his back, and he felt like he’d ran through a warzone with a fever. Keith could feel his limbs failing to respond as he stumbled along the hallway, not having much idea as to where he was heading, the death grip of paralysis sinking into his muscles. His head felt unnaturally warm and heavy, and the bright lights of the facility burned his retinas. He tried reading the signs by the doorways, but the script blurred in doubles before his eyes. He swooned, and then the ground seemed to be tilting up to meet him.

Keith hit the ground hard, pain pulsing through his body, his head throbbing from the impact. His shoulder felt strangely detached.  _ Adrenaline. _ His mind supplied for him.  _ Give it a couple moments and then you’ll feel it. _ But Keith felt himself fading fast, the sedative dragging him under. He saw a flash of blue behind his eyelids, felt a strange warmth in his chest, and a name of a long lost friend upon his tongue.

His world shut off shortly after.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance marched down the hallways as Pidge had instructed. His legs were moving, his mouth was talking into the comms… Yes. He was on a mission. Lance tried to shake his mind from the dream-like stupor he’d locked himself into. The weight of the Cat’s dagger sat heavy within the inner pocket of his jacket.

His brain began to function again, slowly, at first, like an engine warming up after a cold winter. Lance hurried down the hallway with more intent, aware of where he was now. His feet fell silently upon the polished floors of the GALRA base. 

Lance could hear the footfalls of guards approaching him. After confirming with Pidge that the cameras had indeed been disabled ( _ “What do you take me for, Tailor? An amateur?” _ ), and finding out there were three agents headed his way, he braced himself against the corner of the turn in the hallway and fired. Three shots for three targets, and then he was moving on, easy as that. His limbs hadn’t locked up, and his mind had stayed concentrated at the task at hand.

So what made the Cat different?  _ Focus, Lance. _ He chided himself. The bullets he’d shot the agents with hadn’t been aimed to kill. The agents were on the ground in pain, each clutching an arm or a leg. Lance sprayed a cloud of some concoction of chemicals Coran and Matt had come up with which acted as a knockout gas. Almost immediately, the three slumped to the ground, unmoving.

Lance wasn’t one to kill. Yes, he could shoot down a target from a hundred yards away without any hesitation, but the shot was never to the head, heart, or stomach if he could help it. People, no matter who they were working for, were still human. Most agents served the GALRA because they were forced to, or had no other choice. Zarkon targeted the poor with large sums as bait to join the GALRA; to sign away their life on a twisted contract. The people would be forced to kill and terrorize. Lance knew, however, that many would go such distances to keep their family alive, for he had thought about this before.

Lance continued down the hall. He doubted that Zarkon or Lotor would bother saving the three agents, however. Once hurt, they would most likely be seen as cripples, unworthy of the resources from the GALRA. Lance felt his insides roil with rage at that.

He made it down another hallway, this one looking exactly the same as all the rest, before making a final turn into the department. The signs at the end of the hall read “Investigation”.

_ Investigation my ass. _ He thought sourly.  _ Torture and invasion of privacy by unlawful methods seems more like it. _

“Up.” Came Pidge’s voice. Lance looked up, and saw a the familiar grate which signaled to a ventilation shaft. Perfect.

“Got it, thanks, Caffine Overload.”

He heard Pidge scowl from the other end of the line as he jumped up to the grate, pulling himself up with practiced ease. As soon as he had shimmied his way into the narrow tunnel, he pulled the grate back over, disappearing silently. The plan was to have Shiro break Matt out, after Allura had found out Matt’s location from a guard and relayed it to the rest. Hunk had used his device and Pidge’s help to hack into the security system to keep the facility from lockdown for a few minutes while also diverting attention elsewhere, and Lance was assigned to take down any guards who were in Shiro’s way. From there, Shiro and Allura would join Lance and Hunk, who were to secure an escape route by the time they were all back together.

It was a pretty solid plan, if you asked Lance. It was the usual setup, after all.

Lance would have been able to fit in the vent with ease in his normal clothing. The rifle strapped across his back, however, made things a bit more difficult. Allura hadn’t put him through all the strange training for nothing, however, and time spent with Pidge taught him that the body could, indeed, fit into abnormal spaces in very unnatural ways (he had even caught Pidge holed up in a cabinet once, working on her latest masterpiece).

Lance stopped. From where he was, he could hear the sound of a voice groaning quietly. He began crawling again, towards the sound. Through the grate, he could see Shiro, taking out a guard and making his way to where Matt was strapped down to what seemed to be an operating table. Matt… did not look good. Shouts from the hall outside of Matt’s containment chamber snapped Lance’s attention back to the mission. Shiro would get Matt. Lance had to make sure they could get out safely. Crawling over to the next opening in the shaft, he pulled the grate off and dropped down in time to land on top of the agent passing under. Lance fired a couple more shots at approaching guards before contacting Hunk and Pidge.

“Tank, have you found a good exit?” He asked, crouching down out of sight of any approaching agents.

“Yeah. Down the hall, to your left. There’s an office. Break the window - it’s about a twelve-foot drop from there.”

Lance sucked in a breath. “Will Smarty-Pants make that? He’s in really bad condition.”

“No. I’ll go first, so I’ll catch him. That means you’ll be bringing up the rear. Hacker, I need you to drive the Lion you’re in over to the west side of the facility. The Bossman and Glasses will get on. The rest of us will run back.” Hunk said.

“Don’t worry about the explosives either. I set all of them off. Everyone got the plan?” Lance asked.

“You got it.” Shiro’s voice sounded strained, but determined.

“Likewise.” Came Allura’s voice. “I’m on my way now!”

Lance ran down the hall and to the left as Hunk had instructed, opening the door to the office. As soon as he did, however, his blood ran cold, and he pulled his goggles back down, regardless of the scratch.

A tall figure stood, facing the window, gazinging out in an almost thoughtful manner, if it weren’t for the fact that the figure was none other than Lotor.

“My, my, my,” Lotor turned slowly, like a villain in a movie. “We finally meet at -”

Lance shot.

He didn’t have time for Lotor’s shit, so when Lotor fell to the ground, he cast the man a bored look before misting his face with knockout gas.

_ Honestly. _ Lance thought.  _ Who the hell confronts an infiltrator with their back turned and no protection to speak of? _ With a swift kick, he broke the window, turning when Hunk came in with Shiro and Matt close behind.

“Is that -”

“Yeah, now go, we don’t have much time.” Lance urged. He could see Pidge approaching in the vehicle, and shot down a couple of agents headed to stop her.

“Guys there are some GALRA agents on our tail.” Allura came. “Why is Lotor on the ground?”

“I’ll tell you later. Get to the window, I’ll handle the GALRA agents.” Lance said. He jumped over the desk and headed back towards the door. With one last look towards the figure on the ground, he added, “Don’t try to bring Lotor.”

“Why not?” Allura asked.

“What if he has a tracking device on him? They’ll track us all the way back to ALTEA. It seems too easy that he’d just be standing right there, waiting to get shot.” Lance paused. “I… I know it’s a lot to ask, but something about this doesn’t feel right.”

Allura considered his words for a moment. “I understand.” She said. “You’re right.”

Lance turned back towards the hallway and fired. Two guards fell over. He was about to turn and head back for the window when a certain cat mask made his breath catch. Lance headed over to where the Cat lay, out cold.

“Tailor, you coming?” Hunk’s shout could be heard.

“I - yeah give me a sec. I’m fine.”

The Cat’s torso was soaked in blood, the sight of it making Lance sick. Without thinking, Lance took off his jacket, tearing strips off his shirt, and wrapping the shoulder wound. Lance pulled the dart out, and pocketed it, so that GALRA would have absolutely no evidence to track him by. The Cat’s breathing was shallow, but it was still there. Lance could see dark locks of hair falling loose from behind the mask, and his breath caught at the reminder of someone else he’d held dear, with the same raven tresses. For a second, Lance’s hand hovered over the Cat’s mask before decided otherwise and pulled his hand back. Not now. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t reveal the Cat’s face right then and there, but then again, Lance had made plenty of questionable decisions that day. He tucked a small slip of paper into the folds of the bandage, and got up.

He was well aware of the dagger that was still resting in his pocket.

_ Next time I’ll return it. _ He thought, knowing the implications of that idea, recognizing that there was no reason to return the weapon, and realizing full on that it was just an excuse to see the Cat again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys have no idea how much your comments brighten my day. you're all so kind! so yeah it really motivates me to write, and i wanted to thank you all for that. next chapter should be out within the next week, hopefully. this week is going to be busy, but i've gotten a head start on the chapter.  
> until next time!


	5. Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is having second thoughts on saving the Cat
> 
> Keith is confused and intrigued by the mysterious Sharpshooter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back!!! sorry for the wait, i was on vacation and i totally forgot to mention it in the last update, whoops.
> 
> anyways, enjoy!

When Keith awoke, groggy and disoriented, his first thought was of a field of strange, pink flowers.  _ Juniberries. _ His mind supplied for him. Keith recalled the mentioned pink blossoms being woven into his hair by a pair of deft hands. He blinked a few times, before realizing that he was not, in fact, lying in a field of juniberries, but instead lying on the cold surface of the GALRA HQ floors. Keith’s second thought from there was along the lines of,  _ I should definitely be dead. _ He lay there for a while, gazing at the pool of his own congealed blood around him.

Finally, Keith let out a huff, and tried to sit up. His head immediately screamed against the idea of doing so, vision swimming and temples throbbing. He winced, which only caused his shoulder to scream out in protest as well. Keith bit back a groan, before realizing something.

_ I should have bled out from the shoulder wound. I should be one hundred percent dead. _ Keith thought, as he pulled himself up into a sitting position against the wall. Looking down at his shoulder, he saw that it was wrapped in strips of torn fabric which were a faded cornflower blue where they weren’t stained maroon by his blood. With his good arm, Keith lifted his mask off his head to inspect his shoulder more carefully. Upon closer scrutiny, he saw a white corner of paper sticking out from within the layers of makeshift bandages.

He tugged on it carefully, so as to not unravel the bandages. A square piece of cardstock, about two inches by two inches, sat in his fingers, his blood staining one of the corners dark red. Keith frowned. The paper was blank.

Until he flipped it over, and revealed a single image of a blue crosshair. Keith’s breath caught.

_ Sharpshooter. _

Suddenly, the pain in his head, shoulder, and rest of his body was forgotten, as he stared at the card in shock. Keith blinked a couple times, to assure himself that this wasn’t a result of the drug in the dart. When nothing changed, he realized that it was undeniably real, and the Sharpshooter had been the one to patch him up.

But why would the Sharpshooter want to do that? He worked for ALTEA, an organization set on eliminating GALRA, and he was one of their elite, at that. Keith frowned. Then again, why hadn’t  _ he _ killed the Sharpshooter and finished it all when he’d had the chance? They were both guilty in that sense.

Keith’s mind drifted back to that particular shade of blue of the Sharpshooter’s eyes. He scoffed, reminding himself that letting an enemy agent go because of a few dreams was a stupid decision. He found that he didn’t quite believe himself with that statement, however. Keith remembered the shock the Sharpshooter had sported when he’d been cut across the stomach. Was Keith the first one to ever land a hit on the elusive Sharpshooter? Such a thought should have made him happy, or smug at least, but he had been feeling nothing but confused all day.

A sudden thought hit him. Had the Sharpshooter seen his face? 

Keith wasn’t sure why he cared. He wore the mask because he was ashamed of whom he served, of what he stood for. It was easy to hide behind the little cat mask, and made it easier to carry out his missions. It was low, yes, and it was cowardice. However, even if the Sharpshooter _had_ , in fact, seen his face, it shouldn’t have mattered because no one outside of GALRA would recognise him.

Keith brushed off his worries as his own cowardly thinking.

He tucked the card in his pocket, away, and safe from getting lost. The Sharpshooter left cards like these sometimes in areas as a signature, or a threat. But this was somehow different. To Keith, it seemed like a promise.

 

* * *

 

 

It had hardly been half an hour since exiting the GALRA base, but Lance was already having his regrets. He’d saved the GALRA’s best agent off of a gut feeling. The only one capable of ever having landed a hit on him up close (Lance had plenty of close calls with bullets, but combating a sniper with another sniper was much easier). He had probably doomed them all by his stupid actions driven by stupid ideas.

The ride back to ALTEA had been silent, which was unusual for the Voltron team. Escapes were typically loud, either because they were making a hasty getaway or they were conversing about the mission and what they’d discovered. That day, however, no one had said anything, everyone opting to look out the windows instead.

As soon as they had gotten back, Shiro, Pidge, and Coran had gotten Matt into a healing pod in record time, while the others cleaned up the equipment or in Hunk’s case, helped Coran with the pod settings. 

Lance found himself checking in on Matt before rushing to his room to unzip his jacket. None of his teammates had seen that underneath it, his chest was bare, and his shirt had mysteriously disappeared. He dumped his bloodied uniform down the laundry chute before being met with a bigger issue.

An impressive cut made its way from his left, just under his ribcage, over to a few inches above his right hip. Lance, in the rush to get Matt out and the confusion with the mysterious Cat, had forgotten about his wound. He’d begun to come off his adrenaline high, however, and the pain was beginning to affect him again.

Lance blinked at his reflection a few times before promptly freaking out.

He made his way back to the medical wing, not bothering with a shirt.

When Coran saw him in the med bay, the man gave an ungodly shriek, like something akin to slamming a door with rusty hinges. Lance gave a faint smile.

“Goodness, Lance! Why didn’t you say anything earlier?!” Coran asked.

“Uh. I forgot?” He mumbled.

“Get in one of the pods. Oh dear, who did this to you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a knife wound.” The man rushed to prepare the pod. “On you hop, then.” He said, practically pushing Lance into the pod.

Lance welcomed the cool rush of darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith stumbled over to the med bay of GALRA, careful to avoid Haggar and Zarkon. He flipped through the drawers of medical supplies, searching for a needle and some biodegradable thread. Slowly, he unwrapped his bandages, examining the wound. A quick scan from his wristband said that he had suffered from extreme blood loss, but that there was no bullet.

Keith frowned as he wove the needle through in sloppy stitches. It was understandable that the dart was nowhere to be seen, but what about the bullet? It had buried itself deep within his shoulder; Sharpshooter couldn’t have just dug it out.

Keith decided to stop thinking about it.

He looked down at his poor excuse for stitches, sighing. It would have to do.

Keith  tensed up suddenly as he heard the familiar echo of Lotor’s boots down the hallway, accompanied by the shuffling steps of Haggar. He froze, knowing what was about to come next, and braced himself.

“Where’s the rat?” Haggar’s voice came. Keith tried to control his breathing.

“Keeeeeeeiiiiith.” Lotor’s voice sang. “I know you’re here.”

The door to the room opened almost silently. Each second brought more and more dread to Keith.

“Ah there you are! What’s this? You got injured by one of theirs?” Keith could practically hear the glee in Lotor’s voice. “What did I tell you about failing us, hmm?” His voice was still chipper, but it had dropped to something menacing as well. “Turn around and face me, you brat!”

Keith did as he was told, sighing. “I apologise, Lotor. I overestimated my abilities. It was my fault. I’ll accept whatever punishment you have to give.” This was always what it came down to. Keith wanted to fight back, but he knew that would only worsen things. Keith was easily angered, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t control it.

Lotor hummed. “Yes I believe you’ll have to pay. This is what happens when you fail us.” He turned to Haggar and nodded. “You may have your fun.”

By this time Keith was familiar with the zap of electricity, and didn’t even bother screaming before he blacked out.

 

 

_ There was water at his feet. _

_ Keith looked down, watching as the small fish brushed his ankles as he stood in the ocean. The smell of salt and brine stung his nose, and he loved it. In the distance, puffy white clouds could be spotted on the horizon where the sky met the sea. Keith smiled. _

_ “Keith!” A happy voice rang out. _

_ Keith turned around to see Lance running towards him, a grin on his face. Lance splashed over to where Keith was standing, before wrapping him up in a hug. _

_ “Hunk and I found a crab! His name is Jeremy and we built him a house! C’mon, you have to see!” _

_ With that, the two were sprinting down the shore, hands linked together, and laughter ringing out around them. Lance turned around to look back at Keith, and all Keith could think of was Lance, and how pretty he was. His blue eyes watched Keith with delight. _

 

_ And suddenly, they were no longer at the beach, and Lance was no longer the small boy full of smiles and laughter. _

_ Instead, the sad, worn, eyes of the Sharpshooter stared back. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor kids..  
> next update should be out within a few weeks, hopefully.
> 
> thank you for all your support; it means the world!


	6. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith contemplates his loyalties to GALRA  
> Lance just hopes his message gets through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this week has been absolutely awful with the exception of halloween
> 
> happy birthday keith! sorry for being a little late...

Keith awoke once again to the cold floors of the GALRA base. Haggar had left him right there, once he’d passed out. Keith heaved a sigh, and checked his watch. The purple glow of the numbers glared back at him, telling him he’d been unconscious for over four hours. Keith couldn’t find it in himself to care all that much. In all honesty, he knew that this wasn’t healthy. Repeated occurrences like this would lead to nothing good - not that Zarkon, Lotor, or Haggar cared. Not that Keith cared anymore.

He heaved himself to his feet, trying to force his vision into focus. At the very least, his shoulder was no longer bleeding out anymore. Keith supposed he had Sharpshooter to thank for that, to a certain extent.

At the thought of the mysterious, blue-eyed, enemy agent, Keith did a double-take. His mind drifted back to the card sitting in his pocket, and suddenly, he felt both lighter and heavier at once. The card seemed to be burning a hole in his pocket where it sat. Keith felt the guilt of letting an enemy agent go wash over him, but the guilt wasn’t quite sincere.  It didn’t run as deep as the curiosity and the hope to see the Sharpshooter again.

_ No regrets, no apologies. _ He thought.

Goddamnit, this was so stupid though. Keith knew that he was being an idiot for freaking out and getting caught on the colour of someone’s  _ eyes _ out of all things.

And yet, he felt as if it was the one most important thing he’d done as of yet.

Sighing yet again, he made his way to his chambers, ignoring all the bloodstains that had been left on the walls.

He entered his room, frowning at the GALRA insignia upon his door, and flopped into the bathroom with another thought weighing heavily on his mind.

What did the GALRA actually seek to achieve? Keith realised with a shock that he didn’t quite know for sure, other than chaos and destruction. Whatever they wanted, did he actually stand for it? Keith felt something click in his mind as the answer occurred to him that whatever they stood for, the answer was no.

They’d told him that he’d been rescued by the GALRA team, and that GALRA had given him another chance at life. He’d been told that the GALRA worked towards a better future. The GALRA claimed that they valued Keith - and perhaps it was true, but Keith was starting to believe they valued him as a weapon. A means of destruction. Zarkon had declared that if it weren’t for GALRA, Keith would most likely be dead.

But Keith couldn’t bring himself to believe it. Because despite all of that, the small pendant upon his neck and his memories of Lance - a name Keith felt he’d never tire of saying - made him think otherwise.

Where was Lance now? Keith realized with a rush of sadness that Lance was most likely dead. For whatever the reason GALRA had probably killed him. And Keith knew that it had been his fault.

But the thought of the Sharpshooter… No, there was no way. As much as Keith wished it to be true, he couldn’t get hopeful.

Keith pulled out the small card back out of his pocket, examining it. He felt a sense of frustration, looking at it. It wasn’t enough. Sharpshooter had to have left more for him. Keith sat up, fiddling with the small square of paper. Invisible ink, perhaps? He thought. No, that seemed too amateur for the Sharpshooter. It couldn’t be anything too complicated though, right? 

So  Keith marched down to the lab. He tried leaving it under a heat lamp, to see if heat would reveal anything. No dice. Then he stuck the card in water; still nothing. He didn’t want to risk damaging the card with acid just yet. After numerous tests and nothing to show for it, Keith gave up. He’d probably read the entire situation wrong. Of course the Sharpshooter wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him. They were supposed to kill each other, for crying out loud. Keith scowled and mentally smacked himself for being so naive. The card was simply a warning note. That was it.

Keith trudged back to his room with a heavy heart, wanting nothing other than sleep right then. He shoved the card back into his pocket, angry, but not willing to give the stupid piece of paper up.

Keith barely managed to get to his bed before he fell over from exhaustion.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance was panicking.

Granted, it was something he did well, and it wasn’t as if panicking was a bad thing. It showed that you were aware of the dangers and your surroundings, and it showed that you knew what your limits were. Right now, however, Lance didn’t appreciate any of it.

He was fresh out of the healing pod, feeling nothing short of death not even once warmed over. On top of that, the mission from earlier weighed on his mind.

He’d yet to tell any of his teammates what had happened back at the GALRA base. Each time he thought back to it, however, something strange overcame him, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to cry or laugh.

The Cat had struck a sense of familiarity within Lance. Perhaps it was the way he held himself. Reserved, yet confident. Perhaps it was the way he acted quickly, while also thinking strategically that reminded Lance of something long ago. Perhaps it was the way those midnight dark tresses fanned out from behind the mask that reminded Lance of a soft laugh and a shy smile and a boy he loved.

Lance found himself stumbling onto the roof again, jaw clenched in an effort not to cry. Love. The word sounded like a wish and a curse. It was the sound of the universe laughing at him, taunting him.  _ The one person you’d loved and cared most for is dead. _ It seemed to jeer.  _ And now an enemy agent who reminds you of him is out to kill you. _ Lance let out a shaky sigh.

People had told him not to give up hope. Told him that the search crews were doing their best. So Lance hoped and believed that Keith was still alive somewhere. Each day he would look towards the announcement that Keith was found, safe. Each morning he woke up thinking that perhaps it was the day. Days turned into weeks, into months, into years. The search parties were called off. Everyone around him slowly began to lose hope as well until he was the only one remaining. Eventually, the day came when Shiro pulled Lance aside and told him that they’d decided to have a funeral. A ceremony, of sorts.

Lance hadn’t gone to the ceremony. It would’ve been too real.

Time didn’t stop for him or for Keith; it chugged along merrily, as if to say  _ This is life. Learn to keep up. _ Nothing changed. The birds chirped, the sun shone. It didn’t rain. The universe didn’t flicker out. The world didn’t stop for Keith Kogane.

Except for Lance, it felt like it had. Hunk had come back from the funeral with tears in his eyes, telling Lance that perhaps it was time to accept the harsh reality. Face the facts. It was better to live in acceptance than hope for something he wouldn’t ever get back his entire life. So slowly, Lance lost hope as well, but even so, there had always been the smallest trace of it within him, even after all this time.

And then the GALRA took Isa, his sister and mentor, and it all came crashing down again.

ALTEA came to him then, recruiting him and allowing him to aid in the takedown of GALRA, the people behind it all. As fast as his world had crashed, he’d had to pick it back up.

Lance stared out from the rooftop now, sadness welling up within him, threatening to cause him to break down on the roof. It wouldn’t have been the first time, or the second, or the fifth.

He sighed. He could only hope that his message got through to the Cat, and that he hadn’t been wrong to judge. Lance wanted an end to the fruitless fighting. Neither side seemed to be gaining in this undercover war, and Lance needed something more to act off of. There was something else beneath the surface.

Perhaps Keith really was gone forever, but Lance would live hoping to see him again, even to the last of his days. He would bury himself in his work to take down GALRA and make them pay, even if nothing he could ever do to them would be worth anything close.

Perhaps saving the Cat was idiotic, or perhaps it would lead him towards answers.

 

* * *

 

 

_ “Lance what’s that?”  _

_ “It’s my latest experiment!”  _

_ Lance looked up from the mess of cups, bowls, and various mixtures on the floor of his bedroom, grinning up at Keith. Keith couldn’t help the natural smile that made its way onto his face. Keith dumped his backpack down in the corner next to Lance’s, where he knew there would always be a space for it. Over the years Keith had spent so much time in Lance’s room and vice versa, that their rooms were no longer “Keith’s room” and “Lance’s room” but more along the lines of “Keith and Lance’s rooms”. Keith could see the evidence of himself in the addition of his books on Lance’s bookshelf, in their plants on the windowsill, and in the sketches on the walls. _

_ “What is all this for?” Keith asked, sitting down next to Lance. _

_ “Okay so I saw this really cool thing the other day. It’s like invisible ink, but instead you have to use a flash camera to see it instead of UV light.” Lance explained this while gesturing animatedly. It was one of the things Keith loved about him - the way he got passionate about something. “And so I was talking to Pidge and Hunk because they’re the geniuses, and they think it’s possible to create the formula from normal stuff that’s not in a lab!” _

_ “Woah, this is like, super secret spy stuff!” Keith grinned. _

_ “I know right?!” Lance laughed. “Anyways, here’s what Hunk and Pidge wrote down, so I’ve just been experimenting with the amounts of stuff. Wanna help?” _

_ “Of course!” Keith said. _

 

* * *

 

 

Keith woke up with a start. He had an idea. One last idea.  _ And if it doesn’t work, I’ll forget about Sharpshooter. _

This was stupid.  _ Sharpshooter can’t possibly have anything to do with Lance, dumbass. _ He tried to reason. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to try one last thing on the card.

Keith ran back down to the lab. They had a few cameras there for surveying landscapes and scientific purposes. On top of that, Keith knew that they weren’t connected to the GALRA system, so no one would be able to hack it or see any of the deleted photos. The cameras were hardly ever needed, so they hadn’t bothered with getting anything too high-tech.

Quickly, he grabbed one, clearing its memory while he made his way back to his room. He aimed the lens at the card, and took a picture.

Keith felt giddy as he looked at the photo. There, in the middle of the card in white letters, was a set of coordinates, along with a date and time.

Caught in his haze of excitement, he almost didn’t consider that it could’ve been a trap.

It most definitely was a trap.

Keith felt his heart sink with the realization. Of course, this was too good to be true.

Well he would still go, he finally decided, because if it was a trap, then he could catch ALTEA off guard by being prepared for it. Besides, he could gain some information too if he did this correctly. Curiosity killed the cat, but to Keith, not knowing would be just as bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have so many fic ideas... i might start another one, even though i know i can hardly manage one at a time
> 
> your comments and kudos make my day, and any mistakes you might point out is always appreciated!
> 
> until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> I can't promise a strict update schedule, I'll try when I can, but responsibilities and education, amirite?


End file.
